


How To Cure A Broken Angel

by Krupka123



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale suffer from depression, Crowley is trying to help, Do Not Worry, Happy Ending, So please read with caution, They are only friends here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krupka123/pseuds/Krupka123
Summary: Could an eternal being suffer from something so humanlike? Being slowly torned apart by his own guilt? Is there no one who could help him?





	How To Cure A Broken Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this one is not so soft and funny. I hope you will enojoy it anyway.
> 
> Thank you, [Lisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisa_Lisa/pseuds/Lisa_Lisa) for beta!

Not every story has a happy ending. Aziraphale knew that very well.

It started with Noe, all those lives taken because God was angry at humankind. He felt it for the first time, that unsettling feeling of something, dragging him down and making him feel empty and sad. 

And it only got worse.

With every vanishing civilization, every disastrous plague, every war, he was getting more and more lost.

He was good at hiding it. Nobody ever suspected he would feel somehow different than happy. He tried to smile even when he wanted to hide and never be seen again. He was able to talk even when his throat was dry and refused to work properly.

He was so convincing that even his best friend didn't notice.

And then, the First World War came.

And it broke what was already very damaged and held together only by a strong will.

Aziraphale spend two months locked in his bookshop, unable to move, to care, but also cared too much it was hurting him. He was staring at the ceiling and cried or slept. He tried to help, of course he did, but he was able to do only that much, and it was painful to watch what was happening without being able to do only so little.

It was also the time Crowley started to suspect that something is not right. That his best friend needs him. But when Aziraphale showed up again, cheery as always, he let it go.

World War two was even worse. The angel did what he could, again, but it wasn't enough. No, he knew he could do so much more, but he had his orders: not to interfere.

Orders.

He hated them to the core of his being. If it wasn't for those orders he had to follow, he would have done so many good things. But no. There were rules and he had to honor them.

Sometimes, he thought how easy it would be to just...fall. To become one of the bad ones. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to do any good things.

So he was stuck. Torn with a bleeding heart, following what he was told, only to collapse on the floor of his home and unable to do anything but cry. Crying for every innocent soul was exhausting and he often felt like he was drowning. 

There was not a single bright light for him. He was in a total darkness, trapped and scared.

Maybe except one small light named Crowley, his best friend. He was the only one who kept Aziraphale sane all those thousands of years. And the angel was grateful, even if he would not have admitted it to the demon.

But right now, he was asleep on his floor, cuddling his legs like a baby.

Crowley knew something was not right. He knocked on the bookshop door, but no one answer. Crowley could sense the angel inside, so, feeling a little guilty, he opened with his powers and walked inside, closing the door behind him, silently. 

When he finally found him, he kneeled next to him and brushed his hair softly. 

"Angel, I am so sorry.." 

Crowley was angry at himself. He cursed himself into the seven hells and wanted to punch his own face. Aziraphale opened his eyes, red from crying, and Crowley felt even guiltier.

"Crowley? How…" 

"I am sorry, but you didn't answered and I wanted to talk and, so I let myself in." the demon said, apologetically.

"No, it's quite alright." Aziraphale pushed himself up to be sitting, rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry you have to see me like this." 

"Don't be. Are you okay?" that simple question made Aziraphale chuckle.

"My dear friend, I am far from being okay."

"Can I do something for you?" the angel looked into his eyes and tried to smile.

"No. Or maybe. Are you willing to listen to me?" the demon sat next to him, stretching his legs.

"You know I do." so, Aziraphale talked.

He had a lot to say after all.

All those years and years, silently suffering, not telling any living or eternal soul about it, he suddenly put everything into words and said them out loud: he told Crowley how he felt, how it hurts every time something catastrophic happens, how weak he felt. He told him how painful it was and how lost he was. 

"I am losing my faith." and finally, the most crushing thing, the thing that bothered him the most, was said, put into the air. Those five words that made him feel paralyzed every time, devastating him.

Crowley listened to every word. He thought about it and then took Aziraphale's hand into his own. The angel looked at him, surprised.

"You became more human than any human being could ever be. You are not weak, angel. You are the strongest, most stubborn person I know. Those crushing feelings, those are there inside of you because you are a good, maybe even the best angel up there. You _care_ , Aziraphale. You care and that is a rarity, especially these days. I am not going to tell you that it's going to be better, or that everything is fine. But I will promise you that from now on, you are not alone. Whenever you will feel like the world wants to crush you down, I will be by your side. Forever."

Aziraphale felt something knew. Like a brave knight fighting with a monster far more powerful but also feared for its life, those words made a hole into his darkness and let some light shine into it, letting it shake and crumble. He was far from being alright, he knew that. It would take a lot of time to properly heal, and there were also new wounds waiting for him, but the fact that he could talk and that somebody would listened, helped a lot.

And then he has done something he would have never done.

He hugged Crowley, his face on the demon's shoulder.

"My dear Crowley." was all he said, but with a voice so soft that Crowley felt touched by it. The demon hugged him back and then spend the rest of the day with the angel.

And the next day.

And the next.

Until the angel was capable enough to exist again.

From those days, Crowley kept his promise. When Aziraphale felt lost, he came and took care of him. He was making him hot cocoa, read him his favourite books, or just laid down and letting him rest in his embrace.

Aziraphale was healing, getting better and better.

And when they helped with stopping the Apocalypse, Aziraphale felt whole again. Not healed, not miraculously finding his way out of the darkness, but he felt that his faith was back, and all that was possible because of Crowley.

He wanted to thank him, to do something for him, so he called him one day, asking if he could come.

Crowley was there in five minutes, and smiled at the angel.

"So, what is so important?"

"Can we go for a ride?" the demon nodded, curious.

"Want to tell me where are we going?"

"No, but I will lead you there. It's a surprise." so they sat in the Bentley and drove away.

They stopped at a beautiful garden, and in the middle there was a large and a gorgeous greenhouse shaped like a gazebo. They stepped out of the car and walked towards it.

"Oh, this is breathtaking." Crowley's eyes widened behind his black glasses. Aziraphale just smiled. They arrived at the greenhouse and the angel unlocked it, leading his friend inside.

It was like stepping into another world. So many plants, flowers and in the middle, a pool with small and big water lilies. 

"Do you like it?" Aziraphale asked, with a nervous voice.

"I love it!"

"Good, because-" he took the key and put it into Crowley's hand "-it's yours."

"It's whose now?" Crowley was so shocked, looking at the angel disbelievingly.

"Yours, my dear." Aziraphale repeated.

"Angel, you shouldn't-"

"Oh but I disagree. Crowley, you are making so much for me, you are truly my best friend and this-" he waved his hand around "-is the least I can do. This and one more thing." he put another key in his hand, black and shaped as horns at the end.

"A key for my bookshop. You can come anytime." to say that the demon was moved by all this would be a weak word. He hugged Aziraphale and kissed both his cheeks.

"You are an idiot, you know that, right?"

"You are welcome." 

And so they spend their day hanging around, with Crowley talking about every plant with passion and Aziraphale listening to him in return. Absorbing every word like Crowley always did when Aziraphale talked. And he enjoyed it.

It was a perfect day.


End file.
